Picking Up the Pieces
by This is My Pipebomb
Summary: Vegeta is having a little problem adjusting after the defeat of Cell
1. Picking Up the Pieces

**A/N: **This was done for DA group: The-Gravity-Room's Art Jam. Theme was "Reunited".

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.**

He was pissed. At what? So many things, but mainly at himself. For not thinking things through, for reacting so spontaneously. For once again thinking he could defeat an enemy that was utterly out of his league, even with all the power-ups he had gained. He shook his head. Dwelling on the past wasn't going to change anything. Even if it could, he doubted that he would let that happen.

"Vegeta."

The soft voice carried in through the open door. He looked up to see blue. He was still getting used to her short hair. He hadn't understood why she'd cut it short in the first place, until he saw his infant son grasping a lock of it.

"Trunks is ready to leave. Are you coming out to see him off?" The infant in her arms gurgled and reached toward the blue strands. Bulma pulled the child away, his chubby fingers now reaching towards her face. "You're not getting anymore of my hair," she told the babbling baby.

He stood from the bed, his eyes still fixed on the woman and child. "Let's get this over with," he grumped. He walked past the two; his eyes shifting away from them and down the corridor.

**~S~**

After seeing his future son off, Vegeta promptly went back to his secluded room in Capsule Corp. He didn't want to deal with Bulma or her friends-or her parents for that matter. He just wanted to be alone, to think, to not think. His analytic mind was still running miles around the same problem. Why the fuck had he done, what he did, when his son died? He had just _snapped_, unable to control his normally passive features and emotions.

He flopped down on the bed, his listless body sinking into the soft mattress as he stared up at the white ceiling. His dark eyes focused on the invisible cracks as his mind wandered away. He knew he was being stupid. 'I'll never fight again.' What the hell kind of thinking was that for the Prince of all Saiyans? He scoffed at his inner self. It was the words of the Prince that had been destroyed out on the battlefield. First he had to watch Kakarot sacrifice himself, only to have it backfire. Then his future son was picked off so easily by that freak of nature. Only to have the third-class's son take down the unbeatable enemy. None of it made sense, yet at the same time it did.

He closed his eyes, darkness taking over his world.. Kakarot was dead, the one person who was still a rival for him, who kept him down after Frieza's defeat. Gone! He should've been elated, but how could he be when he never got the chance to prove how much stronger than that third-class idiot he had become! That was the way things were supposed to have gone! _He_ was supposed to defeat those damn androids. _He_ was supposed to have killed Kakarot afterwards. Then he was to _leave_ this mudball for good (and maybe destroy it).

He _wasn't_ supposed to get distracted by that damn blue-haired vixen! She certainly wasn't supposed to get pregnant after a few rolls in the sheets! He growled to himself, thoughts of his future son popping into his mind again. Apparently that damn woman was supposed to have his offspring. Not that the thought made it any better, but he had been honestly worried when the brat had been born without a tail.

He rolled onto his side, opening his eyes to stare at the red glowing numbers on his bedside clock. It was only two in the afternoon, even though it felt like it should be nine at night. It had only been a day, _one day_, and already he was feeling more useless than he probably should. What exactly had he done to feel useful about, though? Absolutely nothing.

**~S~**

A few days later and little to no sleep found Vegeta locking himself inside the expansive library the Briefs' home had and scouring book after book about human psychology. He had learned quite a few things in his late-night and daytime readings, but none of it answered the nagging little thoughts that still plagued his mind.

"Oh, Vegeta." Bulma was literally surprised to find him sitting on a chair with a few stacks of books around him. "So this is where you've been hiding!" she said chirpily. She walked over to where he sat and picked up the book that was on top of the stack nearest her. "Mom was worried that you ran away again." She studied the cover, finding herself surprised again at what subject he was reading up on. Of course, she always knew that the extraterrestrial was smarter than he really let on, or maybe she had just really hoped that he was. "So why are you reading about Psychology?" She put the book down and finally looked down at Vegeta.

He sat back in his chair, arms immediately folding across his chest- his defense position. "There's something I can't figure out," he grit out, teeth and jaw clenched tightly.

"Oh, something the mighty Prince Vegeta can't figure out? And what's that?" she asked mockingly but was genuinely curious. Especially since she saw he was studying human behavior and emotions. Was he actually going to try to fit in with their society? She held back her giddiness at the thought of Vegeta going out on the town, dressing normally-which he had already started doing-, and eating at fancy restaurants.

His eyes narrowed as her ki spiked slightly. She may have been hiding it well on the outside, but he saw more than outward appearances. Something she always seemed to forget around him, but in a way he was glad to be able to determine her emotional state. It made him more prepared for the conversation-sometimes. "Forget it." A bit of a growl still laced his voice as he looked back down at the book he had been reading through. "I'll figure it out on my own."

Bulma pulled out the chair next to him and sat. She planted her elbows on the desk and leaned over his shoulder to see what he was reading. "If you need help with something, I promise I won't tell anyone about it," her tone gentle and serious. Hoping to get a positive reaction from him this time instead of offending him.

She was only supposed to come up, grab a book, and get back to the lab to figure out her own problem, but Vegeta looked so perplexed. She just couldn't leave him that way if she knew an answer to his problem. Although, she wasn't a genius in psychology the way she was with mechanics. Plus, it had been how long since the last time they'd actually talked? Well, besides the few snippets of yelling or the occasional telling him when something was ready. Maybe this was a chance to get back to….whatever it was they had shared so long ago.

Her presence was overwhelming him, pressing down and around his being. This was why he'd tried to avoid her after things had gone awry in their relationship because here he was, thinking about how good she smelled. A hand landed on his forearm, prompting his mind to realize how soft she still felt against him. "I said I'll figure it out." He shook his arm to try to free himself of her. No such luck.

She hadn't touched him since Trunks was born. His warm skin felt so good under her fingertips. His hard muscles tensed and rippled as he raised the arm in a futile attempt to shake her off. "I'm not leaving."

Their eyes finally met, but he quickly looked away. "Fine, then I will." He slammed the book closed and stood. Her fingertips tickled along his skin as they finally slid off. He picked up a few books and stormed off.

Bulma frowned slightly as she watched the Saiyan leave. She finally stood from her chair as she heard the door to the library slam shut. "Still such a jerk," she muttered to herself. If only he would admit to needing help. Everyone needed a shoulder to lean on sometimes, right? That's all she was offering him, something to lower his burden when the pressure became too much. She sighed. Was it really too much to ask that he confide in her a little? 'Most likely.' It made her wonder more and more about what his life had been like while serving Frieza.

She shook her head. There was no time to think about any of that right now. There was a project that needed tweaking! She grabbed the book she had come here for and headed back to the labs.

**~S~**

It was a few days later and Vegeta was sitting back against the headboard of the bed while still studying through the numerous books he had confiscated from the Briefs' library. He had been sneaking back every time the coast was clear of any humans so he could get more books, hoping for some new answer. Yet, all the books he read through gave him the same conclusion. His brain denying that what he was finding was certainly _not_ the reason he had snapped on the battlefield. It just couldn't be! He chucked the book towards the open door of the closet in frustration. He snorted and crossed his arms, his senses reaching out to find out where the blue-haired woman was. His last resort for a clear answer was moving around in her bedroom.

He exited the room and moved down the hallways of Capsule Corp until he was standing in front of Bulma's door. He could still sense her moving around, wondering vaguely what she was up to before shaking the thought away. He took a deep breath, raised his hand, and knocked. The movement from inside ceased for a few seconds before she started heading toward the door.

"Vegeta?" Her eyes widened a bit as she cracked the door open for her head to stick out.

"I need to talk to you," he said calmly, although he could feel his muscles tensing at the thought of having to ask her advice on such a subject.

"Um, okay," she answered slowly. "Can you give me just a second?"

He grunted. "It's not like I haven't seen it all before, woman." His eyes stayed locked with hers as she pushed a strand of wet hair back over her shoulder.

"Charming as ever, Prince." She straightened herself a little, but made sure that nothing but her head was visible to him. "No surprise that I fell into your big, strong arms in the first place. Now give me just a few seconds to throw some damn clothes on." She shut the door in his face, not giving a damn about offending him now. He was the one who had ran from her in the library, and now he was suddenly here to ask her something. She wasn't an idiot. He'd apparently not gotten an answer to whatever he had been trying to research about humans.

After throwing on some pajamas, she reopened the door to find Vegeta tapping his foot against the floor and fingers drumming against a bicep. "So what do you need to talk about?" She stepped aside as he crossed the threshold and into her room before she gently closed the door behind him.

Vegeta swept across the room, directing his attention toward the window at the far end of the room as he thought about how to reveal his problem. He wasn't sure he wanted to come right out and tell her the dilemma that was occupying his every thought, and he certainly didn't want to influence her answer by giving her too much information about what he'd read.

Bulma took in the contemplative look that passed over his face. "Is something wrong?" she suddenly asked, a little concerned. "Do you want to leave now that there's nothing left for you to do here?" She seated herself on the edge of her bed, watching the man, waiting for his reaction or some sort of outburst-that she was used to.

His dark eyes scanned back to her blue ones. Leave Earth? He hadn't even thought about it, if he were to be honest with himself. "It's nothing like that," he finally bit out. "I." He stopped, eyes moving back to the darkening sky. "Did your son tell you what happened with Cell?" He wasn't sure if he was quite ready to admit to anything just yet.

"Um." Her legs crossed as a finger came to rest at her lower lip. "Let's see." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Vegeta standing restlessly. "He told me about Gohan almost defeating Cell, about Goku having to sacrifice himself, about it not working and Cell coming back." She stopped her words as she noticed Vegeta tense a little at the last statement. "He, uh, said Cell killed him. Then Yamcha told him what had happened afterward." Her eyes continued to watch the tensing muscles, his fingers now gripping his forearms. She frowned slightly, her hands cupping together in her lap. "Why did you….."

He turned briskly to look at her. "That's what I'd like to know! Why?" His left hand lifted and ran through his spiky black hair. "Like I, like I." He couldn't say, wouldn't say. There was no way in hell!

"Like you developed feelings for your son?" she questioned softly. Her hands flipped, palms pointing downwards, as she uncrossed her legs so she could move her hands to her bare knees. The sweat from her palms warming the coolness of her knees. "Is that what's bothering you? Have you never felt the need to protect someone before?" She glanced back at the irate alien.

His hands were now fisted by his side, his teeth clenched tightly together. "Why would there be any need to protect someone other than me? That's how it's always been up until now!" His eyes remained focused on the outside world, not wanting to see the laughter he was sure was building in her eyes. He growled to himself. Why had he come here again? To hopefully prove that those damn books had been wrong?

She was feeling a little offended right now. He had acted so rashly when their future son had died, but when her plane went down she hadn't even gotten a flinch from him. "So then why, Vegeta? For Dende's sake, your present son and I didn't even get a second thought as we crashed to the earth. If it hadn't been for our future son…" She cut off at the dark glare she received. "What, don't tell me you're suddenly going to regret that now." Her words came out harshly as she pressed her hands harder against her knees.

"Bulma," he started, fists still shaking at his sides. She wasn't going to mock him? She was seriously bringing this shit up? "I told you where my focus was going to be. That if you wanted to see those damn trash heaps, why should I care." His fists stopped shaking as he took a heavy breath. "You knew that meant I wasn't going to save your ass when you got into trouble."

Tears brimmed her eyes and a hand raised up to wipe them away. "I know! I just thought that…." Both hands gripped her knees again.

"That I developed those so-called feelings for you? That no matter how much I would deny them that I would rescue you like some Prince Charming that you've been waiting for?" he spit. "I told you it wasn't like that…."

"Then," she interrupted. "And I was fine with that, Vegeta. You know I was, but things have changed. A lot more than we thought." She took a shaky breath, trying to calm the anger that was still raging inside. "I_ need_ you, Vegeta! Heaven only knows why I fell for an asshole like you, but I did. And now. Now that things are settling down and you're apparently not leaving. I want more from you." She pushed herself off the bed. "I really do. I don't know why, maybe it has something to do with the fact that I love you." She cautiously approached him. Her fingers hooked together at the base of her spine as she took the last of her steps.

She was standing a few inches away from him, her posture relaxed and her eyes a bit downcast but looking at him. She _needed_ him, she loved him? He knew the woman was crazy, but had the brat sucked all the brains from her? "You just went through a traumatic event. You want someone to comfort you, woman. That's all it is." His own anger was dissipating as he took in her relaxed her form.

Her body straightened and fingers unhooked so she could point an accusing finger at the man. "What would you have done if Cell had _killed_ me? Just go on with your daily business like nothing fucking happened?"

His mouth opened, but the finger was shoved more in his face as her body moved an inch closer. His eyes crossed slightly, and his mind spun as she threw the words at him. What would he have done if it had been Bulma out there? Surely she would never be that stupid!

Her left hand rested on her hip as she prepared to jump ship of her pent-up emotions. "I'll tell you I'd do if I was there and saw _you_ get killed! I'd charge that fucking monster despite not have any ki of my own! Then I'd gladly request to go to Hell just so that I could kick _your_ ass! Would that make you see things a little bit clearer?"

His hand lashed out, grabbing the accusing finger. "You'd like to know what I'd do?" The voice he used was calm and business like-never a good sign from Vegeta. "First of all, I'd like to point out that I'd doubt you'd be stupid enough to enter the battlefield regardless of how powerless the enemy was. Especially after that little stunt you pulled in your plane."

Bulma blinked, dumbfounded. The anger she had felt melted away at his soft yet pointed words. The hand that was gripping her finger was tight yet not uncomfortable.

He lowered her hand, placing it back by her side. "Second, if _any_ enemy killed or even harmed you, I'd rip their fucking head off. Hm, or perhaps I'd rip out their heart and make them eat it. Is that a good enough answer for you?"

The knowledge of him doing such an act to avenge her sent shivers down her spine. A grin graced her once hostile features. Victory was at hand! "And there you go again, making my knees weak with such beautiful poetry, oh prince of mine." It may not have been a declaration of love, but it was probably the closest thing she'd ever get from him.

His eyes shifted towards the window again. "You love it when I talk dirty." His own form of a victorious smile turned his lips up as he quickly turned his attention back on her. "Or was it just a fluke that you'd get all hot and wanting when I talked about destroying your friends and planet?"

She was about to retort when a keening wail came through the baby monitor sitting on her nightstand.

Vegeta shot a glare at the device before turning his attention back to her. "You coddle him too much. Saiyan's do not need so much love and affection. Let him cry."

Bulma walked over to the table and turned the monitor off before walking to the door. "He's still half-human, and human babies need more nurturing than Saiyans. Besides, when did you become parent-of-the-year?" She opened the door and motioned for him to exit.

"Tch." He walked to the door, stopping in front of her. "Saiyans are far superior to humans in every way."

Bulma ran her eyes over his-for once-fully clothed body. "You don't have to remind me, Mister Super Saiyan." She swatted his butt as she leaned over to press her lips against his.

He responded in kind, his lips opening just enough so he could nip at her bottom lip. After doing so, he pulled back abruptly as another harsh wail sounded down the hallway from Trunks' room. He turned the opposite direction of the child's room.

"Hey," Bulma called, "if there's anything else you ever need help with." She stopped for good measure, since it seemed neither one of them took offense to starting where they had left off. "Don't hesitate to ask."

Vegeta smirked with the knowledge of her hidden offer.

She was starting down the short path towards Trunks' room before she stopped again. "Oh, but just remember that Trunks and Capsule come first."

"And I've got training to get back to, woman!"


	2. Stepping Up

**Prompt: **Winter Nights.

**A/N: **Alright, second chapter! And slowly making my way so I can post the chapters that are done over here XD Haha. Anyway, I am just going to put here that I do have a 3 year-old son, so a lot of the things I make Trunks do or the way he behaves will be from SOME personal experience. Now, I am going to take into account that Trunks is half-Saiyan and therefore would most likely develop just a little bit faster than normal human babies-seeing as how Vegeta was five-years-old and off destroying planets! So, yeah. Oh, and the whole "no tail on Trunks" comes from this website - **Kanzentai(dot)com(backslash)index(dot)php**. Just in case anyone was curious 'cause I know how much I hated seeing Trunks not having a tail when I first started reading DBZ fics...LOL.

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.**

The door to his bedroom door flew open and quickly closed before he even had time to make a biting comment. She'd been playing this game ever since the leaves had been blown from the trees. "What do you want?" he grumped as the female easily found her way to his bed in the darkness. Of course, when the snow finally started falling a few weeks ago, this habit had only gotten worse.

Bulma pulled back the covers and slipped underneath them. "It's so cold," she complained as she scooted closer to the warm mass of body heat. An arm draped around his waist as the other hand slid under his pillow. Her cheek pressed against the hard muscles of his shoulder as she snuggled her body against his.

He lay motionless, still not used to her affection and desire to be around him. "And? You have a bed of your own," he said matter-of-factly.

"It's not the same."

The pout in her voice made him roll his eyes. "Why's that?" he asked dryly as the arm around his waist pulled back ever so slightly so her hand could rest on his stomach. "Because it's ten times bigger than this one?" The hand crawled it's way over his abs and up between his pecs. "Because you have a thousand more sheets and pillows to rest upon?" Fingers rested upon his lips as her head turned to ghost a kiss on his shoulder blade.

"Because you're not there," she answered softly. The lips under her fingers puckered to give a kiss. "Why won't you join me?" She pulled back so her chin bounced off the muscles.

"Why do you want me to?" he countered. The movement of his lips making them brush against her soft flesh. "Every time I come to join you the brat starts screaming like a banshee." It was true that the few times he had visited her sleeping quarters Trunks would always wake up and start fussing just when things started getting good.

She let out a small sigh as her forehead rested against his back. "I told you at the beginning that Trunks and Capsule come first. I won't let either of them suffer just because you need a roll in the sheets." Her tone held a bit of bitterness as her hand dropped back down to his stomach. "I just…."

"Then why do you come to me and spend the night if that means leaving the boy all alone?" His own voice filling with spite. He would admit to himself that he had been mildly surprised and annoyed the first time she had shown up and slept the whole night through here with him. Then as the nights became colder and she came by more frequently, he was ashamed to admit that he enjoyed her company-even if it was just her sleeping form next to him.

"He does sleep through the night most of the time." She pulled away from him, her hand gliding from his stomach to his waist as she rolled onto her back. "Come to think of it…."

"He only screams when he senses me around you," he finished the thought. "For such a genius it sure takes you a long time to figure things out," he snorted out derisively. "You have the boy so spoiled and coddled he doesn't like you giving your attention to someone else."

"But, he doesn't do that around my parents," she said thoughtfully. This was the last thing she had expected from Vegeta-an actual conversation so late in the night. She'd only started this visiting kick in order to lure him back to her bed, but that plan had obviously failed. So, she'd opted to continue her visits and hope that he'd at least open up a little-whether physically or emotionally, but once again it had been a failing plan. That was until now, it seemed.

"That's because they're not a threat to your attention, are they?" he ground out. "He gets all their attention as well as yours."

Her eyes flicked to his naked back as her hand pulled away from him completely to rest on the bed between them. "I guess that's true, but when you show up he's in bed and asleep. So…." Her name coming out in a frustrated growl made her stop.

"He _senses_ me." His muscles tensed fully before the blankets were thrown to the side and his hands planted themselves on either side of her head. Her own hands had raised to rest defensively against his chest as a surprised look covered her face. "Trunks is not a weak little human baby," he spat in her face as the top of his body hovered over hers. "He never was, and he doesn't need to be surrounded by love and attention!"

Her surprise quickly melted into anger and frustration as an invisible bolt of electricity passed between their bodies and lit her temper. "And how do you know when you don't even interact with your son?" she finally shouted back as her hands now pushed at his chest. "And don't you dare say anything about you Saiyan-jin's, especially the males, don't take an active role in raising your kids," she hurriedly spat as his mouth opened only to close again.

His eyes closed tightly before reopening them and finally taking in her half-naked form. He moved to sit on his butt, his hands supporting him from behind as he snorted. "Were you going to try and seduce me," he sneered

Bulma pushed herself up as well, not wanting to give Vegeta any sort of dominate position now that he had relinquished his assertive behavior . "Don't try and change the subject, Vegeta," her voice holding a bit of a growl. She adjusted the thin shoulder straps of her black slip nightgown. "Earth isn't anything like Planet Vegeta-at least when it comes to raising your young," she half-muttered the last part. "Both parents usually take an active role, unless one parent is a heartless bastard." Her eyes shifted towards him at her statement before pushing herself from the bed.

Deciding to ignore her biting comment, he opted for one of his own. "Maybe you should try to put on some clothes next time instead of running to me." Although the blood rushing through his body screamed at him to take advantage of her blatant offer, he just couldn't after their argument.

She turned her nose up and away from him. "I've been coming here for almost three months now and you've not touched me a single time." From the corner of her eye she looked at him. "Contrary to popular belief females enjoy sex as much males-if it's done right." A small smirk formed on her lips before they opened to let a sigh pass. "But I suppose if you don't want to join me, I'll just take care of it myself."

Vegeta was glad the room was darkened enough that her weak eyesight couldn't pick up the twitching of his muscles and a certain appendage at her words. "After all these years you're still so vulgar."

"Hmm," she hummed softly. "I haven't heard that line in a while." The smirk spread across her lips again as she made her towards the door. She opened the door, letting a little more light filter into the room before a hand brushed down her side, the fingertips catching under the hem of the gown and lifting it enough to show off her bare ass. "You're still more than welcome to come join me, but I can't guarantee you'll get to participate." She stepped out of the room, not waiting for a reply. If he had one, it would've been blocked by the shutting the door anyway.

She got back to her room, closing the door softly behind her, and threw the slip off her body. "Stupid stubborn Saiyan," she muttered as she moved toward the chest of drawers. "He could've at least slipped a little." Opening the top drawer, she pulled out a pair of underwear and slipped them on. Bending slightly at the waist, she opened the third drawer and pulled out a pair of flannel pants. Drawing them up over her hips, she tied the strings and walked into the closet to grab a long-sleeved button-up shirt.

She had just started to button her shirt when her door was thrown open. She twisted her neck to glare at the man as the door closed none too gently behind him. "Sorry, but you already missed the show." She continued to button up the shirt as he stomped over to her.

His fingers caught hers, stopping the motion. "It couldn't have been that satisfying if you're already done and getting dressed." His body pressed up to hers, his fingers brushing over the top of her bare breasts.

Her breath hitched as he leaned closer, and her eyes started to flutter down. Then, without warning, a screaming cry broke the intimacy. She was about to pull away when a strong hand wrapped around her arm, and the fingers on her breasts pressed deeply into the soft flesh.

"You stay, don't move, and I'll be right back," he told her firmly before letting her go. She started after him, but he turned his head and pointed a finger back at her. "I said stay. I'll take care of the brat."

"Vegeta," she started to protest until he gave her a deathly glare.

"You said both parents raised the child here. Well he's got his human parent smothering him, so let the Saiyan parent put a little discipline in him."

Her hands came to rest over her heart as she watched Vegeta storm out of the room. Her eyes lingered on the monitor as the screeching continued. "Mommy?" Trunks's voice cut through the air as she inched closer to the bed.

Vegeta opened the door, his eyes immediately landing on the lavender haired boy who was sitting by the bars of his crib. Vegeta sneered at the contrapation.

"Mommy?" Trunks pushed himself up to stand and look over the bars. Upon seeing his father standing there, bright blue eyes flashed towards a piece of furniture before screeching, "MOMMY!"

Dark eyes scanned the room and landed upon the device his son had known was there. He briskly walked over to the monitor, picked it up, and crushed it. "Mommy won't be here tonight." He walked over to the crib and eyed the young child. "It's just you and me, and I won't be pushed over by cuteness or tantrums."

Trunks sniffled, his chubby hands letting go of the rail to rub his eyes. "Mommy," he tried again, his sniffling and whimpering increasing.

"No," Vegeta stated, his arms crossing over his chest. "Now you listen here, boy." Blue eyes appeared from behind heavy eyelids as the hands moved back to the rail. "I know your game, and I won't be playing along like your mother does."

Another half-whimper escaped from the child's throat as his lips quivered.

"So here's what's going to happen. I'll be around much more often, and I'll not have squalling every time. Do you understand that?"

The boy gave a shake of his head.

Vegeta lowered himself to look into the now wide eyes. "If you start crying when I'm here, I'll be the one to come take care of you. Your mother and grandparents have you completely spoiled," he half-muttered the last sentence. "So," he continued, "if you start acting up and I have to come here again it won't be a pleasant visit for either of us."

Trunks' quivering lip finally stopped as he dropped back down to his butt. A scowl formed on his tiny features as his arms crossed to mirror his father.

A smirk graced Vegeta's face as he once again lowered himself to look between the bars. "Are you going to cry again?"

The boy looked down as he shook his head.

"Good. Go back to sleep and you'll see your mother in the morning." The child continued to sit and pout as Vegeta rose to his full height again. "Or just sit there and pout. Either way, I better not be hearing any sounds coming from you," he gave one last warning, not caring if the boy understood or not. He seemed to know enough on how to get his mother's attention, so he should've been able to comprehend that he was in trouble. Now the question that lay on the table was did the boy know what punishment was? Vegeta blew out a heavy breath through his nose as he walked back to Bulma's room. If the child didn't know, he was going to learn quickly in the next few days if he continued to scream and cry.

Bulma was sitting on the bed when Vegeta finally returned. The now useless monitor was cupped in her hands as her head raised to look at him. "Was that really necessary?"

He gave a low short-lived growl as he approached the bed. "Of course it was. The brat knew exactly what he was doing." He took the device from her hands and threw it over his shoulder to the floor. His fingers drifted back down to their position before he had left. "I suppose we should get you warmed up now," he leered before leaning down to kiss her.


End file.
